The End of History
by Synthesis
Summary: On a freighter orbiting Bothawui, a Twi'lek mercenary named Mariss confronts her Chiss boss about what exactly he has planned for their little merry outfit, and consider a future with and without the Jedi Order.


**The End of History**

_**A Civil Conversation Between a Chiss and a Twi'lek**_

Mariss, a Rutian Twi'lek woman in a baggy sleeveless black flightsuit that was clearly military in origin, strolled through the short hallways of the 'borrowed' YT-1300 cargo freighter, taking care not to strike the top of her head tails against the low bulkhead frames. She didn't care for the ship, even if it served their temporary needs. Taking care with the crate she was carrying, she ducked into the cramped but undermanned cockpit.

"Hey Jerry, here's the spare console."

Jeurok, the Chiss youngster in a tawdry smuggler's vest and trousers whom Mariss called by his nickname, looked up from the disaster that was the YT-1300's primary control systems. They'd been shot up when their motley crew had acquired the ship as a means to flee from Bothawui III and Jeurok, normally upbeat and energetic—for a Chiss anyway—was up to his arms in burnt, smoky wires and coiled circuits.

"Thanks Mariss, just put it down there," he muttered tiredly. "Would you mind grabbing that 'spanner and removing that panel I marked? I'm gonna' be here all day, and somehow just sitting in Republican space seems like a bad idea," he explained exasperatedly.

Dutifully, Mariss opened the metal toolbox and made a very visible, very uncertain expression.

"Well?"

"You know, Emfive is actually done with the coolant leak, how about I just ask if he'll help you out?"

Jeurok made an almost pathetic face at her. "You will?"

"I'm sure he won't mind."

"That'd be great. But remember, that little droid probably outranks both of us in the company," he said, throwing both arms back into the open console.

Mariss gave as sympathetic a nod as she could manage, before strolling back out through the corridor. R2-M5, the astromech that nominally belonged to the company's owner, but enjoyed the autonomy of an experienced war veteran, was rolling through the main loopway, in the direction of the passenger compartment.

"Yo, Emfive," she said, as friendly as she could manage. The little white-and-red droid stopped in his track and turned his hemisphere to look at her before chirping. "Jerry could really use your help."

Emfive gave an unmistakable grunt-like whistle.

"_Please_," she added quickly. She was too busy for this sort of thing, or she'd never give into the droid so easily. It was beneath what dignity she had…

Emfive seemed convinced, however, and gave a patronizing _bloop_ before turning around and heading for the cockpit, Mariss stepping out of the prideful droids way.

She watched him leave before quickly strolling through the loopway to the port cargo hold, opposite the cockpit module on the freighter. She strolled through the expanded cargo hold doorway, shutting it behind her. Sitting atop one crate and crouched over another like a table was another older Chiss, who glanced over his shoulder at her.

"Oh, Mariss. What can I do for you?" asked Endros, her boss and Jeurok's superior, in their little band. As usual, he wore the light armor of the Stormtrooper Corps recon scouts, the "scout trooopers", in increasingly worn-out camouflage print. His helmet wasn't visible, but he appeared to have some sort of blaster weapon arrayed out in numerous parts in front of him.

"Actually, I thought I could help you," she offered, sounding gregarious but not too gregarious. She had a reputation in the company, after all.

Endros gave a soft chuckle, which was usually as much amusement as a Chiss cared to express. "Know anything about blasters?"

"Not really," she admitted. "I didn't use them much before I met you."

"Of course," he replied. "Could you check that shelf over there for a spare power cell adapter? I must have bashed this thing when I took that tumble back on Bothawui. I think I knocked something out of alignment."

"They're not indestructible," she observed.

"Well, not if you sit on them repeated," he said, acknowledging his own fault. Mariss went to the shelf, pushed aside some cardboard boxes, before finding what she was looking for. She whistled and Endross turned on his seat before catching the box she tossed at him. He turned back around, back facing her.

"Thanks. Do you think you're ready?"

Mariss kept poking around the shelves, taking a step to her left. "You mean for Operation 'Nova'?"

"What else?"

She didn't answer immediately, taking another step to her left. "I guess I am."

"Well, you know how to fly a Y-Wing, as far as the simulators are concerned."

"The Y-Wing's not what I'm worried about," she reminded him.

"You're right, there's a lot that could go wrong. A _lot_," he admitted somberly. Like most Chiss, he didn't express much emotion, though he tended to be comfortable expressing dread. There was a hint of it in his voice. "You know, if you don't think you can do it…"

"I can do it," she cut him off. "It's my job. What's the point if I don't?"

"You mean for that surgery?"

Her thoughts returned to the surgery Endros had promised her when they first met, back on Tatooine. On that miserable ball of sand in space, the Chiss had made a commitment that, in truth, he had little way to guarantee. Now it seemed to suggest how seriously he took it. She kept silent.

"Are you having second thoughts on that?" he asked eventually, having opened up the cardboard box and taking out a rectangular part. He removed the shiny component at the end, then turned back to his pieces.

"Should I?" Another step. She was half way across the wall now.

"I guess so?" he said reluctantly. "Who knows if it'll work."

"It'll work," she said confidently. "It'll work."

Endros nodded, taking the blaster rifle's grip in his hand and affixing the focusing coils and gas chamber assembly into their slot. He gave them a push and the whole assembly slid into the rifle's narrow barrel, before turning and locking it in place. Except for its folding stock and scope, the blaster rifle was one piece again. Endros sighted the weapon in the opposite direction. "Well, I hope it does. I mean that."

One last step. Calmly, Mariss pushed aside a crate and stood on her toes to look into the top shelf. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"No, of course not, go ahead," he said, frowning. When he turned, she was treated to the sight of those softly glowing red eyes expanding in surprise. Mariss was holding Endros' bulky utility pack in her hands, facing him. It took a fraction of a second for Endros to understand the implications of this, during which he'd already leaped from his seat, holding the mostly-complete blaster rifle in his hand.

"Wait!" he'd begun shouting, seemingly in contradiction to the weapon he was pointing at her. In that same time, she'd drawn the vibrobayonet she kept sheathed on her utility belt—automatically activating it in the process—and driving it right through the top of the utility case. There was a sickening animal screech the pack's contents—a curious, somewhat-furry lizard sitting atop a nutrient frame that fed it—were pierced by the blade. Its life expired almost instantly as did the projected invisible 'bubble' they were at the center of. Mariss felt the familiar, sharp pain return along with her powers, the squeezing pressure on her brain, causing her to visibly wince.

Heaving a breath, she looked up to see Endros frozen, one outstretched blaster-carrying hand pointed at her, barely leaping over his seat. He was the victim of a form of telepathic stasis, forcing his muscles to freeze and his mind to submit, that she projected from her own. It was one the arsenal of powers she had as a Dark Jedi adept that she'd been happy to part with in her time with Endros, but she needed them right now.

Endros remained frozen, some sweat beading on his forehead, his armor sitting on his useless body. She let the utility pack fall with a loud _clang_, glanced once more at the shut door, then at Endross before crossing the hold and taking the partially-assembled E-11 from his stiff hand. She tossed the weapon against the floor with another _clunk _before sitting down where he had been earlier.

"First, I'm sorry about this. And I'll take the punishment for this, and the ysalamir, and everything else, but I needed to speak with you candidly."

She looked up at him. "Who are you really?" She eased the pressure on his mind just enough to let him physically speak, but did not relent on the control of his mind.

"Mitth'endro'suodo," he quietly gave his full name, a very alien one that.

"Where were you born?"

"Csilla," the answer came obediently.

She didn't recognize the world, but she was impressed how well this worked. She'd never thought her highly of her own mastery of such techniques, not to mention the lack of recent practice. "Where is that?"

"In the Chiss Ascendancy."

Again, unfamiliar. It didn't matter. "This company that we're in, what is it really? Who do we answer to?" she probed.

"We are the Two-Hundred Eleventh Special Warfare Group of the Empire of the Hand," he explained mechanically. "I was ordered to form a clandestine unit of like-minded individuals, regardless of background or vocation, to present the image of one of the unending sea of private mercenary outfits that've risen in the five years since the Battle of Endor."

_Unending sea. _Mariss picked up the complex, precisely-made scope unit that Endros had removed from the rifle. "And who are your superiors? This 'Empire of the Hand'?"

"My orders come from Imperial Naval Intelligence and the Ruling Council," he said, devoid of emotion.

She shook her head. She'd never heard of the former, and barely knew anything about the later. "Fine then, what was your mission then? Why is this company here?"

"To deliver intelligence and execute the commands of Admiralty, the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Navy, and…"

She pounded her fists against the makeshift table. Between the mounting exhaustion of the effort she was exerting, the painful migraine she felt, and his answers she was running out of patience. "You've already said all of that, Endros, it's meaningless! What the hell are we are doing out here? Are we fighting the Republic? Are we smuggling arms to the Empire? Just give me an answer!" she screamed at him.

Endros just stood there, like a computer unable to interpret a command. She forced herself to relax as much as she could. "What is it _you _want to do, Endros. What are you working towards?" she asked softly.

He gave a delayed, slow answer. "We need…to stop the Jedi."

She looked back at him and put her hands together. "Explain."

"Even if you don't agree with the Empire, or the Old and New Republics, one thing is certain: the Jedi cannot be allowed to rise again. For the last twenty-thousand years, for the entire recorded history of the Jedi, we've seen the same thing happen again and again: the ascendancy of the Jedi Order bringing upon its own downfall. It is not the Jedi, but the universe at large, that pay the price for the fall of every Dark Jedi from the Order. Until the Emperor's purge, in fact, the Jedi were insulated from the consequences of their dogma and arrogance."

"What do you mean 'insulated'?"

"The Jedi Order was an extrajudicial paramilitary organization as well as a religious cult. They monopolized not just the legal practice of their powers, but also control over the Republican officer corps during wartime. But they hadn't come any closer to actually preventing the downfall of individual members only to threaten the stability of much of the galaxy. They are not only responsible for the fall of many Jedi and the descent into chaos, but also the military response and restoration of order. It can even be argued that the Civil War is another example of this repeating cycle."

"I don't really want a history lesson," she muttered. "But the Empire, your superiors, wiped out the Jedi. Why isn't this problem solved?"

"Because the Empire hasn't succeeded. Today, there are more Jedi alive then there were a decade ago. Furthermore, the rise of a Sith ruling cult just leads to the same abuses of power and religious dogmatism that creates threats to peace and order."

"At least you've given that some thought," she scoffed before frowning. "This all sounds like the party line, Endros. Again, I want to know, what do _you _think. What do _you _want?"

Another pause. "I think we have to wipe out the Jedi," he said, his voice sounding a little more natural. "I think it's unfortunate, but I don't see that we have a choice. Even the most compassionate of Jedi refuse to give up the right of association and the trend towards a unified Order. We're seeing that happen today. They have, in their own words, divine moral authority that far surpasses any 'temporary' government or institution. It is their birthright and their duty to the universe. They will preserve their knowledge, their powers, only to unintentionally produce another Exar Kun, another Vader, either to seize power for themselves or to be manipulated by those with mastery of their religion. Their cult has to be ended."

"So, in the long run, you want to wipe out every Jedi, light or dark, in the whole galaxy?"

"I won't live to do it," he said abruptly. "But someone has to start. It's the only way to change this wasteful cycle."

He'd been sweating more, still locked in that posture, his eyes wide and strained.

"You're not the first person to try," she added. "Of course you're not, you didn't come up with this idea, some…admiral in Coruscant did years ago."

She turned around on her seat and crossed her legs against her chest. "What makes you different?"

"Nothing."

She raised an eyebrow.

"We Chiss don't believe in the Jedi tradition."

"You don't believe in Jedi?"

"We know the Jedi exist, we have seen their role in Republican politics for thousands of years. Generations ago, when our culture unified and we became a galactic power, our leaders decided they would not tolerate the tradition reaching our children. When the Jedi searched our space, in times of peace and war, for centuries their efforts were futile. No apprentices, no students. Children were not given over to recruiters, even if their parents consented. The most promising candidates, the strongest children, were sequestered until the Jedi relented."

"I've never heard of Chiss Jedi," she admitted.

"Autocracy has its advantages, ours has worked. We've become a regional power that has lasted to the present, alongside the Republic and the Empire."

"So you think the universe can carry on without any Jedi."

"Before the Empire, the Jedi believe the universe could carry on without the Sith," he said. "To not believe so would lead to such despair as to the fate of sentient life. Why not without the Jedi?"

She sat in silence, and he spoke again. "That fire must be extinguished from the universe."

"So you must purge any sensitive life?"

"The history of the Chiss Ascendancy has shown that's unnecessary. Even genocide can't prevent the occasional phenomenon. It'll have to be enough that all knowledge is controlled for peace and order, if not by the Empire, than by another unified galactic government. There's no reason to have such a thing otherwise."

Mariss felt the conversation taking a distinct political bent, one that she was either too ill-informed or too tired to enage in. She took a deep breath and focused what remained of her energy.

"So what about me?"

"I haven't mislead you. The Empire, the Chiss Ascendancy, and the Empire of the Hand all possess the technology necessary to remove the implants left by your master. But I don't know what that will do to you."

"No one does," she muttered. She stretched her legs and stood up. "That's enough, then."

Standing on front of the frozen Chiss, Mariss leaned down a little to lock eyes with him. "I'm sorry, but I had to know. And I'm not going to harm you further. I'm sorry it came to this in the first place. I'm sure you, and Jeurok considered me a comrade, and I'm grateful for that. You've done by right by me, I just…can't trust easily. So I'll do right by you."

Reaching for her utility belt, she opened a holster and drew her own weapon, a DL-44 missing its scope and held it in her right hand. "I'm not powerful enough to make you forget this happened. And I know if I killed you, I'd have to answer to an organization much stronger than me. Sure, maybe I could kill Jerry and that little droid, but I can't fight the whole Imperial Navy. Instead, I'm going to give you a choice."

Turning the weapon around and holding it by the barrel, she forced it into Endros' open right hand and closed his fingers around it, putting one above the trigger guards, and then pushed down the safety before releasing her hands . Kneeling further, she pressed the weapon against her forehead and leaned into it. "I'm going to release you, Endros. And I'm going to stay like this until you decide what to do. And if you want to shoot me, I suppose that's the punishment for I get for hurting one of the few people who ever actually tried to help me. I can't apologize any other way." She shrugged. "I don't even know if this counts as an apology, but it's all I can think of, all right?"

He didn't say anything. "All right then. I'm going to count from five and release you. I can barely keep this up, and I don't have any Jedi tricks left that could stop you," she said, her voice strained and tired. "Five."

Endros was still frozen.

"Four…three…"

Mariss tilted her head forward and clenched her fist. "Two…"

She closed her eyes.

"One."

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

_So, I've done something I've never thought I'd do, I've written a _Star Wars _one-shot. Really, this was a matter of inspiration about reading arguments justifying the importance of the Jedi order and faith in the way the galaxy works, and I've actually paraphrased some of them in the actually story itself. Thanks, internet debate forums! _

_I'm not an expert on Star Wars, but I did play a _Star Wars_ d20 game run by someone who was (or at least was more an expert than I), which is where these characters originate (I'm sure fanfics inspired by tabletop games are actually super common, but this is my first time doing it). Now, I know that the Jedi ARE the supreme good in Star Wars. It's a setting where God is real, beyond of a certainty of doubt (we can't say that about our own world), and his agents know it too. Arguing against that is futile, or so I'm told. But the characters in this story, a Chiss from the Imperial Navy, and an ex-Dark Jedi apprentice, don't know that, so they can actually argue about this sort of thing, philosophically or otherwise. Obviously, we're dealing with some very unreliable narrators here, whose discussion is effected very much by their own political inclinations. For some reason, in this setting I feel particularly obligated to mention this..._

_I know, courtesy of Wookipedia, that there are not one, but TWO Chiss force users. This struck me as hilarious, since there are only two (compare it to even the list of Twi'lek or other near-human Jedi), and they both come from sources that I can easily ignore, and am going to. Maybe the characters are wrong, or maybe they don't exist. Who knows? _

_I marked this as 'humor', because when I explained it to the friend who ran the original game, he couldn't stop laughing, and neither could I. Sounds funny to me! I don't really expect to continue this, because writing in _Star Wars_ seems like an incredibly daunting, mind-bending project (and yet a bunch of people do it, so I must just be lazy, but I was able to whip this out in one morning, for better or worse). Love it or hate it, I guess I can cross one last thing off the list, and feel free to tell me what you think of it as always._

_The title, you may or may not know, comes from Francis_ _Fukuyama's influential essay _The End of History _and the associated book, which considered that western liberal/neoliberal capitalist republics were, in fact, the ultimate form of government (that humans would never come up with anything to replace them with). I'm comfortable saying Fukuyama's very lofty thesis, practically impossible to confirm in the first place, has been thoroughly debunked in the 23 years since the dissolution of the Soviet Union and the establishment of the United States as the sole superpower on Earth. Even Fukuyama himself as begrudgingly acknowledge he can't count for the effect of posthuman technologies in the future either. Doesn't have much to do with _Star Wars _I know, but hey, if you read all of this, you deserve an explanation I think. _


End file.
